Commentary on Dogen’s text “The Power of the Monastic Robe”
Monasticism
This text is called “The Power of the Monastic Robe.” It was written by Master Dogen in 1240 and is devoted to the kashaya—the monastic robe. It is the same as the sanghati.
In India and China, during the periods of the true teaching and the semblance teaching, even laypeople received the kashaya. Now, when the Buddha’s teaching is weakening and sinking into decline in lands far from India, even those who shave their heads and faces and call themselves disciples of the Buddha do not possess the kashaya. They do not believe, do not know, and do not understand that one should possess the kashaya; truly, they are worthy of pity. How can they know its form, color, and dimensions; how can they know in what manner it should be worn?
Of course, Dogen is not speaking about the color and dimensions of the monastic robe, but about the spiritual essence of the sanghati. Every morning, when we get up and put on the sanghati, we must remember: “I am a monk. In this boundless world of people, in this great Universe, I am neither a being of hell, nor a preta, nor an asura, nor a god of desire, but a human being. And in the world of humans I possess a precious human birth, and I am a monk.” Such a choice should be remembered daily, many times a day.
If humanity on Earth, with a population of five billion, were represented in a virtual proportional ratio as a village of one hundred people, then approximately 55 out of 100 would be women and 45 would be men; only 1 person out of 100 would have higher education; about 70 would be Asians; 60 would be non-white; about 5 people in this virtual village would possess the greater part of material resources, and all of them would be from America; about 60 people would suffer constant torment from malnutrition, cold, and lack of shelter; only one would have a computer, and only 5–8 would have the opportunity to practice the Dharma.
We do not see this, but there are vast numbers of people in third-world countries (in Central Asia, China, South America, and Africa) who lead a very poor and wretched way of life. They are on the brink of survival, die from elementary illnesses and various epidemics, and possess an unadapted body and low intelligence. We rarely hear about them; nevertheless, they make up the greater part of the Earth’s population. Many of them live in countries where there are no democratic freedoms, where one can end up in prison and be subjected to violence for one’s spiritual practice. Of course, the practice of the Dharma there is not even a matter for discussion.
Compared with them, we are very successful and prosperous; we have a precious human birth. We take all this for granted, but in fact, on the scale of the entire population of the Earth, this is not at all the case. Therefore, when reflecting on what robe we wear, we always make the right choice.
The Robe of Liberation
The kashaya is called the robe of liberation. It liberates from all obstacles connected with actions, defilement, and the consequences of actions. If a dragon receives even a small piece of the kashaya, it can be cured of fever. If a buffalo touches the kashaya with one of its horns, all its past deeds will disappear. When buddhas attain the way, they always wear the kashaya. Know, then, that its power is unsurpassed and deserving of the greatest veneration. It is sad that we were born in a distant land in an age of the decline of the teaching; however, we have been fortunate enough to encounter the teaching transmitted from awakened one to awakened one, from Teacher to disciple. In what other lineage of succession has the Buddha’s teaching been transmitted as correctly as in ours? Who would not make offerings upon encountering the teaching of the robe, and venerate it? You should make these offerings at least once a day, even if for this you must give up countless lives. You should make a vow to encounter, support, venerate, and make offerings to the robe birth after birth, generation after generation.
When we take the vows of a monk and put on the sanghati, this means that our karma changes, that is, the structure of our impression of ourselves changes. Even in a dream we see ourselves in an illusory body in the form of a monk. This is like choosing another karmic path—a path leading to liberation.
Therefore, we must be very attentive when we wear the sanghati; we must respect the one who wears the sanghati. Perhaps we do not have a very respectful attitude toward ourselves, but then we must respect the sanghati itself, since we are in it. If we are inside the monastic sanghati, then we cannot allow ourselves to act unconsciously and disrespectfully toward the authorities established in the sangha and in the monastic hierarchy, toward our Dharma friends, toward service, toward our own practice, toward the saints and the teaching.
We must remember that we are inside the sanghati (monastic robe), especially since we practice such a great tradition not only of sutra, but also of tantra, as well as anuttara tantra. One could say that this triples its power. Of course, the true essence of the sanghati lies not in the fact that it is a special garment made of cloth, but in the meaning that we invest in it.
Overcoming the Obstacles of Time and Space
We are separated from the land where the Buddha was born by thousands of miles, mountain ranges, and oceans. We are unable to go there, but thanks to the results of our past virtuous deeds, neither mountains and oceans nor ignorance any longer imprison us in this abandoned place.
Dattatreya preached and appeared to people many thousands of years ago; the Buddha—two and a half thousand years ago; such mahasiddhas as Saraha, Gorakhnath, Matsyendranath, and Shankara—a thousand years ago. However, thanks to the lineage of the teaching, you can practice as if all of them were right now beside you.
We have encountered the true teaching and are ready to practice it tirelessly, to practice day and night; we continuously preserve, support, and protect the kashaya.
The expression “continuously preserve, support, and protect the kashaya” means to constantly maintain one’s image as a monk, as a practitioner. It does not mean maintaining one’s image as a person who simply wears clothing, since a true practicing monk abides in conscious pure vision, is immersed in mindfulness and contemplative presence; he is impeccability itself; one could say that he is the illusory body embodying the energies of the Absolute.
Thus, the power of the kashaya is embodied through our practice, and this is aided not by one or two awakened ones, but by all the buddhas, who are as numerous as the grains of sand in the Ganges River. Even if it concerns individual practice, one should honor it, rejoice in it, and wholeheartedly express sincere gratitude for the priceless gift transmitted by the Teachers.
The question is how we relate to the monastic robe. This is also our inner attitude. If we relate to it as a priceless gift, it becomes for us that which opens to us the priceless gifts of the Dharma. If we relate to it as a formality, it becomes a formality for us.
The power of the Buddha’s robe, the Dharma of the Buddha, could be understood and comprehended by no one except the patriarchs who transmitted the true teaching of the Buddha.
You will understand the greatness of the monastic robe much later, perhaps in twelve years, when your mind has undergone all the changes it must undergo. It happens that we forget that we came to change, and the inert unconscious parts of our mind, out of habit, resist change. This happens unconsciously. They crawl out again and again, like the heads of a many-headed hydra: you cut off one, and three appear anew. The task of a monk is to constantly cut off these heads with the sword of vigilant awareness. This is persistent daily spiritual work, and everyone should know that there is no escaping it if the decision has been made to practice the path of purification.
The Proper Transmission of the Teaching
When you follow the path of the buddhas, joyfully receive the robe of the awakened one, the Dharma of the awakened one, and continue to transmit the true teaching even to hundreds and thousands of future generations. This is what the newly embodied Dharma means.
The correct transmission of the teaching is like not mixing water with milk, but enthroning the crown prince. If there is not enough milk, one may drink milk mixed with water, but one must not mix milk with butter, lacquer, or wine. If the transmission is carried out correctly, even an ordinary mentor of a mediocre lineage can be milk; all the more so will this be the case when the true teaching is transmitted by buddhas or patriarchs.
One lay female student wrote me a letter in which she said that she practices yoga, has transmissions into mantras, has studied Rajneesh and Sri Chinmoy, has received various practices in sangha classes, and that she has had various experiences. She wrote: “I am burning with the desire to teach yoga. Could I receive a certificate from the monastery so that I can teach yoga to others, because organizations require a certificate. I have an education, I have a helicopter pilot’s certificate, and some other rank.”
I replied that we do not issue certificates for club yoga instructors; we issue certificates for masters and mentors, and for that one must study for at least twelve years and complete all the trial assignments. If your level after twelve years of monasticism is appropriate, you will receive such a certificate; if not, you will have to practice for another twenty, thirty, or even fifty years—that is, as long as it takes.
The transmission of the teaching is a very serious matter, and spiritual influence on others is something that presupposes the realization of your own level. Therefore, we intend to train monk-masters who have attained genuine realization and holiness, and this takes years. This is what the entire system of monasticism is intended for. Of course, a true monk needs no certificate whatsoever; it is even ridiculous to think that one can practice for the sake of such things. The best certificate will be awakened consciousness, which saves one from the cycle of birth and death; if it is present, then everything else will simply fall at your feet.
The True Lineage of Transmission
Even the rulers of the world say that they merely wear the robes of the previous ruler. How, then, can a child of the Buddha wear any robe other than the robe of the Buddha? Monks and laypeople often traveled between India and China, but not one of them said that in India he had managed to meet a patriarch who possessed the true teaching directly transmitted from the previous patriarch. Thus, they claimed that there supposedly was no lineage of direct transmission of the teaching. These people studied under mentors, comprehending sutras and treatises, and brought Sanskrit texts back with them. They did not say that they had met patriarchs who had directly inherited the Dharma. They did not speak of patriarchs transmitting the Buddha’s kashaya. That is why these people did not penetrate deeply into the treasury of the Dharma and did not clarify the meaning of the direct transmission of the teaching.
When we practice, the principle of samaya is very important in the teaching. Usually, one speaks of avoiding the fourteen root downfalls, and one of the fourteen points is connected precisely with the teaching. The samaya of the teaching means that we accept the teaching as the path, understand it, and embody it in life. This means that we observe the algorithm of the teaching, do not deviate from it, and try to realize all those summits that it offers. When we realize the true teaching in our consciousness, we become included in the lineage of transmission of the great saints.
Shakyamuni entrusted the Treasury of the True Dharma Eye to Mahakashyapa together with the robe received from the Teacher Buddha Kashyapa. The robe was transmitted from Teacher to disciple for thirty-three generations. Its form, color, and dimensions were transmitted directly. The teaching on how to wash and wear the robe was known only to those who studied under a mentor who directly transmitted this teaching.
The teaching of the Tathagata came from India, where the mentors of the past and present went beyond the views of ordinary people. Since the worlds of the buddhas and the worlds of sentient beings are boundless, the teaching, practice, practitioner, and the essence of the Great and Lesser Vehicles—all this is beyond the grasp of ordinary people. However, in China followers often resort to Indian teachings and consider later interpretation to be the true teaching of the Buddha, which is erroneous. One who aspires to awakening and wishes to receive the kashaya must receive the true transmission of the kashaya. Never take a new robe. That which is called the correctly transmitted kashaya was transmitted directly from the Tathagata Bodhidharma.
Who can comment on the words “never take a new robe”? Could this mean that one should take a washed sanghati, one already worn by someone else? What is meant? Never invent your own teaching that has not been verified by the experience of saints, because such a “new kashaya” will quickly come apart at all the seams; it will be like a cheap imitation made of poor-quality material.
By following the teachings of the saints, we have a guarantee that we can attain the same result. This is the main difference between those who practice a lineage of transmission of the teaching and those who do not practice it, but simply rely on inner experience. The point is that inner experience is limited to the experience of one person as an individual. Even if the individual is outstanding, in one short lifetime he is not able to encompass the entire depth of the realization and attainment of the mahasiddhas, who refined the teaching over hundreds, thousands, or even tens of thousands of years—and not alone, but as a whole army of mahasiddhas.
This is what the correctly transmitted kashaya worn by Dharma heirs and Dharma descendants is like. The new kashaya that can be seen in China is completely unsuitable. All the kashayas worn by Indian monks of the past and present resemble the correctly transmitted kashayas of the patriarchs. Not one of them wore kashayas like those now worn by the monks of the School of Precepts in China.
Each practitioner must periodically compare his practice and his attitude toward practice, his experiences and consciousness, with this true kashaya.
The Spirit of Impeccability
There was a saint named Shanavasa. It is said that when he was born, he already had worldly clothing, and when he became a monk, his worldly clothing turned into a sanghati. There was also the nun Pundarika, who came into the world in a kashaya, and this happened birth after birth, because it was the result of her merit (she had offered a mat to Buddha Shakyamuni in one of her past births).
When we wear the true sanghati, we embody in every word and deed the spirit of a monk’s impeccability. When we do not embody such a spirit of impeccability, our sanghati becomes defiled, and therefore we must wash it. The older you become as a monk in terms of monastic age, the more you must remember this spirit of impeccability.
I often say this: “What is permissible for a layperson is not permissible for a novice; what a novice will not notice, a monk will notice; what a monk may forget, an initiated one has no right to forget; and what an initiated one may overlook, a senior monk or mentor must always remember.”
You all must become senior monks not by position, but inwardly. You must become someone who embodies the pinnacle of impeccability, perfection itself in everything. However, this cannot be done in a single day. It is said that it is not the temple that saves, but the road leading to it. This means that if you walk the road, the temple arises in your heart. And one must walk this road every day, without interruption.
